


It stays in the Bubble

by orphan_account



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, NHL Bubble, New York Rangers, Other, Playoffs, i really need y'all to read this, im so so sorry, is going to the trump rally w ur bro a date, minimal angst, this is all a joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25842439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tony Deangelo and Brendan Lemieux get lonely in the bubble. Their teammates don't want to listen to them whine about trolls on the internet, so they do it. With each other.Lemieux grabbed Deangelo’s face, trying to capture his line of sight. “Deebaby, where are you looking?”
Relationships: Tony DeAngelo/Brendan Lemieux
Comments: 99
Kudos: 32





	It stays in the Bubble

**Author's Note:**

> this seems pretty obvious but this is based on my vibes from each of them, not on real life so dont sue me
> 
> feel free to read ahead if u know or are either of these guys

Tony had never considered himself gay, but he sure was considering it now, after he lost yet another round of COD: Infinite Warfare. Only gays lose at video games. Look it up.

“Damn, my baby female younger sister could beat you at this game,” Tony heard Brendan mutter, “And she’s a fucking girl.” Brendan said with a look of hatred on his face, as simply talking about women made him want to enforce his masculinity. Except for when he flirted with them. They never flirted back, but he knew how to jerk off.

Brendan always made Deangelo giggle in delight, especially when he was encouraging him to harass women on the internet and call people slurs on the ice. Sometimes Tony wondered if they would ever be more than friends, going on dates to Trump rallies and helping Bettman rig the draft lottery together, but he quickly shook that suggestion out of his mind. Hes not gay, he’s fucking homophobic. But at least Brendan was white. A relief.

Tony threw his controller down at the ground, allowing his manly anger to consume him. “I'm not a dainty little girl,” he called out to Brendan. “My hair’s longer than yours [slur].” Deangelo began to leisurely watch the screen of the game. War made him horny.

Lemieux looked over to where Deangelo was panting like he just played 5 seconds of a game against Detroit. “You good, my straight, trump-loving, not-gay homie?” Deangelo just moaned in response, crying as he kept seeing more guns come out on screen. 

Brendan thought he should try for a humorous response. “Man, I cant believe those fucking libtards are trying to take our guns away. And make us wear masks. My body, my choice. Gary Bettman? More like Gay Bettman because he wants us to wear masks and thats so fucking gay.”

If Tony had a brain, he would’ve been able to comprehend the truths that Lemieux was speaking. Tragically, none of Tony’s relatives have brains, so he didn’t get that trait. Instead, Tony got a huge dick. Well, at least by his family’s standards. Two inches didn’t seem to impress the American girls that much, but he did only go for girls related to his favorite Italian, Christopher Columbus. 

God, the boners that Deangelo got from that guy in school. Opening the textbook was a disaster for him. Even when Tony read about the atrocities that Chris committed, he couldn’t get over his grade school crush.

Lemieux looked back to where Deangelo was drooling, a commonplace thing for him. This time however, Tony kept muttering about how “he wasn’t gay” and “I only jerked off to Columbus ONCE.”

Lemieux could definitely relate to that. While he wasn’t Italian-American, his dad was from Quebec. Lemieux loved most guys from Quebec, in a straight way. Except for Pierre-Luc Dubois, who hates Trump and therefore was a fucking libtard. And you know what they say about libtards? Well. Brendan doesn’t but he assumes that it’s something about how they’re all in line to suck Marx’s dick. 

Brendan sighed, glancing down at himself. All of this talk had made his dick grow into a damning three incher (on good days). Luckily, Deangelo was too busy angrily tweeting about people calling him out for being hypocritical. He really should go outside more often. The world could use more of that beautiful, glowing face.

Deangelo gasped, his tits heaving against his marinara-stained Olive Garden t-shirt. Oops. Brendan had said that out loud.

“I’m not gay!! I’m not some creepy dude that pervs on other dudes. That’s fucking weird. Girls are hot as shit,” Brendan cried, with all of the force of someone being called out on the internet. Tony simply stared back, cheeks flushing with all of the force of one of his shots. So, overall, not very strong, and not even much of an effort.

Nevertheless, Tony crawled over to Deangelo’s half of the room, hips swinging side-to-side. Disappointingly, he looked more like the creepy drunk guy that comes onto you after being told no thirty-seven times and less like he was trying to be seductive. Lemieux was into it. No one ever said that he had “taste” after all.

It took him twelve minutes, but Tony finally made it to where Brendan was leaning against the wall. They stood there awkwardly, looking like two people that wanted a quick and easy escape from reality.

Neither of them knew what to do. They’re both so fucking idiotic.

Lemieux grabbed Deangelo’s face, trying to capture his line of sight. “Deebaby, where are you looking?”

Deangelo shrugged his hand off, ran a hand over his eyes. “Straight at you, bitch. I have a lazy eye and now I’m so offended.” He ran off to sit in the shower for around 36 minutes, eventually coming out when he realized that everyone should love themselves just the way they are. Except for gay people. They don’t count.

When Tony finally came back from his moment, in which he DID NOT cry because that’s gay, he found Lemieux watching a rerun of a Trump rally. Neither of them understood what he was saying, but apparently he got way too much pussy. He could share with them.

Brendan snorted. “Apparently those fucking children on tiktok keep harassing Trump and hurting his campaign. I think that we should ban tiktok. When I have kids, which I will because that’s a straight thing to do, I’ll never let them do anything that’s not Christian, because Trump upholds every single Christian value that I can think of. When will the USA become an autocratic theocracy again?”

Tony wiggled over to him, shoving his tongue in his mouth to shut him up. All that Brendan could feel were Tony’s comically oversized lips, and could only taste his spray deodorant. Neither of them knew that spraying deodorant inside their mouth wouldn’t make them smell, or taste, any better.

Lemieux snuggled up close against Tony, feeling his 6-incher against his thigh, only admiring how long and thick it was because he’s very masculine and should know what a real cock feels like. Laughing nervously, Deangelo reached into his pocket and pulled out a king-sized snickers bar. “It’s not my dick that you just felt,” He whispered, the chocolate melting and dripping obscenely onto the hotel-white bedspread, leaving stains for the poor housekeepers to clean up.

They stood there awkwardly for a few minutes until a notification from Tony’s phone broke the silence. It was the Duolingo bird, telling Tony that he needs to learn more Italian. Honestly, Lemieux felt shocked. He thought Deangelo was 100% Italian, but it was all a lie.

-

The Canes swept them. The disappointment coursed through both of their veins, even though they had done absolutely nothing to prevent it. Deangelo lost his mind, going home to hang with his racist relatives after having to see Matt Dumba and others kneel for what they believe in. How dare they stand up for themselves. 

Luckily, the Trump admirers were wooed when they saw that Eric Trump had tweeted about the NHL. For them, it was basically a love letter. Jerk off material for the next three weeks. 

-

They packed up their hotel room, making sure to call ICE on the housekeeper because she did look vaguely Latina and neither of them wanted to take any chances.

Leaving the hotel was as anticlimactic as entering, except for when Tony and Brendan decided to remove their masks and cough on a few opposing players. Needless to say, they did not win the fight.

They watched each other at the entrance, entranced by the others silky, golden locks. Sadly, neither of them realized that they were staring at Nylander instead. When he finally passed, they turned to each other, emotional. “I’ll miss you, bro, not in a gay way,” Brendan finally said, staring at the weird shape of Tony’s face.

“Same, homie,” Deangelo replied, gazing wistfully at Brendan’s Patrick Kane-esque face. They locked ankles, whispering to each other, “no sex before marriage.”

Neither of them supported gay marriage, of course, so there were no fears to be had. As long as one of them didn’t catch feelings, they were A-okay. And, let me add, neither of them were gay. They were honestly just homophobic, misogynistic, and racist.

Oh, and they got Lafreniere, another rookie they could force into watching Trump, inviting him to his rallies and showing Alexis all of their carefully selected propaganda.

fin… or is it ;)))))))))

**Author's Note:**

> anyways this was me being very bored and very inspired by tony deangelos and brendan lemieux' small dick energy.
> 
> and god, i feel so bad for lafreniere.


End file.
